Unraveled (Guzzi Duet Book 1)(68)

Constantino laughed hoarsely. “Just tell her the truth, Gian. See what she says.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”





Gian knocked on Cara’s apartment door, ignoring the pain that bloomed in his swollen, bruised knuckle. She hadn’t answered his calls as he’d left the restaurant, or the ones that he’d made on the drive over. A quick check with Chris, who had been designated to follow Cara for safety reasons again, had confirmed that she was at home.

Chris didn’t have more information to offer, though.

“Cara, open the door,” Gian said quietly. “I know you’re here, mon ange.”

Silence answered him back. He understood why. It still hurt like hell. He’d take ten dislocated knuckles over her rejection. Funny, how love worked that way.

Gian knocked again. “Cara.”

“Did you know that in Italian, cara means dear?”

Her quiet question filled him with a sense of relief. She hadn’t opened the door, but it was a start. Gian would take it.

“Of course, I know,” Gian said. “Mia bella cara, amore.”

He heard the lock unlatch on the door a second before Cara slowly pulled it open. She stood on the other side, the apartment’s darkness shadowing her in the hallway light. She had lost the dress from earlier, and the heels, too. Clean-faced, any makeup had been removed, and she’d tossed her wild hair up into a messy bun. An over-sized T-shirt fell at her mid-thigh, and she looked ready for bed.

“I’m sorry I left without at least waiting for you,” she said, crossing her arms under her breasts and staring off to the side. “I got angry and I only wanted to leave. So I did.”

“It’s fine.”

Or, it was now.

Gian understood why. He had simply reacted in a different way than Cara had, perhaps a less than proper way, considering his status. Even Cara had walked away when she was offended, Gian had definitely not.

“I’m sorry for whatever it was that Constantino said to you,” Gian said. “He has no business putting his opinions in where they’re neither wanted, nor warranted. And trust that he absolutely knows that, now.”

Cara nodded. “Sure.”

“You don’t sound sure, sweetheart.”

She looked up at him, sadness coloring her blue eyes. “Did he have a point, though?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Really? Because if he feels the need to say that running around with you looks bad on me, and if my uncle felt the need to warn me away from you, then why not think something is wrong with it? And what is it that’s so wrong? I don’t understand. I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?”

“No,” Gian rushed to say. “There’s nothing wrong with this—with us. There never has been. Some people have their opinions because they’re stuck in a different time, with different rules. Women should do as they’re told, as they’re expected to do, and not what they want to do. I’m not of that mindset, Cara.”

She frowned.

Her sadness hurt him as badly as her silence.

“And who the fuck cares about those people, anyway?” Gian asked. “I sure as hell don’t. I only concern myself with what you think and feel, not them. They get no say in this or us. None at all.”

“Then why did I let what someone else thought bother me so fucking much?”

“Because you’re allowed to have feelings, Cara. You’re allowed to demand respect from other human beings. No one has any right to make you feel less than them, especially when they don’t know who you are in your heart. They don’t know you. Not like I do.”

“You really do know the right things to say.”

“I say the truth, love.”

Gian stepped forward, opening his arms to test the waters. Cara gave him one of her small, sweet smiles before letting him wrap her in his embrace. Slowly, he walked her backward enough that he could kick the door closed behind him. Tangling his hand into her soft curls, he tilted her head back far enough to steal a kiss from her pretty mouth.

“Anyone who even thinks to breathe a bad word about you in my direction deserves every fucking thing they get,” Gian told her, his calm voice belying his inner rage that had finally simmered a bit. “You’re mine, Cara. I love you. Nothing else matters.”

It was shocking to him in that moment how savage and brutal his love could be. That, without care or consideration, he would willingly and happily hurt someone he thought of as a friend simply because they had hurt her. The possessiveness that nearly always filled him whenever Cara was too far away was suddenly settled when she was in his arms, and his restlessness finally drifted away when he could touch her again.

This wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t going to let her, or anyone else, say otherwise.





“Fuck,” Gian snarled, pulling his mouth away from Cara’s as she laughed. “I’m going to kill whoever that is.”

“No, you won’t.”

The persistent knocking on her apartment door had effectively cock-blocked him in the worst way. He had just gotten her out of bed, and ready to sit down and eat something—a feat in itself, where Cara and mornings were concerned. He thought a nice fuck on the kitchen table would be a reward for his good deed before breakfast, but apparently, that wasn’t going to be the case.